Romancing the Earl

by Heather Boyd

“I will be inviting Lady Kelly to spend Christmas with my sister.”

  Lenore beamed. “I’m sure Lady Kelly will be overjoyed to hear such an invitation.”

  “You will come with her, too.”

  Lenore frowned, drawing back from him a little. “I go where Lady Kelly commands until she has no use for me, and then I will find other employment.”

  “She’s an exceptionally accommodating woman, and I am a busy man,” he assured Lenore. “I’m certain I can persuade her to keep a companion after we marry. You will be a great comfort to both of us.”

  Lenore tried very hard to dismiss the feeling of dread growing inside her as he drew closer. She wanted to believe she’d misunderstood Lord Thorne’s offer of a gift, but the longer she looked at him, the stronger her fear of him became.

  He touched her arm, tried to walk his fingers up to her shoulder.

  She flinched away and heard him laugh softly. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

  There was every reason.

  Clearly, Lord Thorne was a scoundrel who was attempting to seduce her and her employer, and believed he would have both of them in his power when they reached Cornwall.

  She tossed the gift back at him. “Isn’t there?”

  He laughed softly again, flicking the chain around his fingers. “We’ll discuss the matter further another time, one way or another.”

  “There is nothing you could say or do that would alter my opinion of you now,” Lenore stated, but Lord Thorne only grinned wider at her warning.

  “Unspoiled and full of promise, despite your age. How little you know of the world beyond this dreary backwater. I mean to educate you properly, and I’m a patient man who always gets what I want. She’ll never suspect or believe I’d give you a second glance, so don’t go bleating to her about this or you’ll find yourself in peril and unemployable.”

  She gulped. “Lady Kelly is expecting you to propose to her.”

  His smile was triumphant. “I know, and of course, even after we wed, she’ll still need her proper companion. I will insist upon keeping you on.”

  Lenore tried not to gape—shocked that she’d underestimated him so badly. “Lady Kelly is waiting for you in the drawing room, my lord. I’m sure you can find your way there.”

  His smile slipped. “When Lady Kelly invites me to stay for dinner, I expect you to join us afterward in the drawing room and sit beside me when she plays the harp.”

  For a moment, she imagined a glint of fierce excitement in his eyes, and she was afraid. Lady Kelly played the harp with her eyes closed and would see nothing of any impropriety.

  Lenore forced herself to hold his gaze, becoming angry that he would put her in an impossible situation. “I am not sure what my lady’s plans are for dinner, my lord. Excuse me.”

  “Yes, do hurry back with her summer shawl.”

  Lenore strode into the adjoining room, chin high but quaking inside. What the devil was she to do tonight? Lady Kelly would never take her side, not against Lord Thorne without proof of his unwanted pursuit.

  She’d have to leave before the marriage took place—and soon. She refused to warm a scoundrel’s bed. “Thank you for waiting for me,” she told the waiting servant.

  “Cor,” he whispered. The man’s eyes were a little wild with shock. “He’s finally showed his true colors. Are you all right, Miss Griffin?”

  “I’m fine,” she promised. Though the back of her neck prickled, the sensation passed as Lord Thorne’s footsteps faded away and he returned to the drawing room and Lady Kelly.

  “He means to have ya,” the fellow hissed.

  “He will not get his way. Not with me,” she promised.

  Lenore had no close friends here among the servants, but they could protect her to a point. Companions were above the household staff. She could easily find herself at his mercy if he bribed a footman to look the other way.

  She needed a new position, now, and to somehow obtain a reference from Lady Kelly, too, without Lord Thorne meddling.

  She quickly flicked through the mail, glad of the excuse not to rejoin her employer until her temper had cooled. She couldn’t believe Lord Thorne’s nerve.

  “A letter’s come for you, too, Miss Griffin,” the footman enthused, pointing it out. “From Miss Wagstaff in London.”

  She studied the letter addressed to her, squinting but hardly able to read the handwriting. It was indeed addressed to her, but very poorly done. And it was not from a woman, either, though the footman didn’t realize that.

  Her letter was from an earl who pretended to be a lady for the sake of Lenore’s good reputation. “I’m surprised this even arrived.”

  “I think it must have had an interesting journey. It has a funny odor about it.”

  She sniffed the letter carefully. “Stale spirits. Miss Wagstaff would be horrified her letter arrived so sullied,” she murmured to keep up the ruse.

  “That’s what I thought, too. I hope it’s not bad news.”

  She held the letter to her chest. “I’m sure it isn’t. You’d better get back to your duties.”

  Once the footman was on his way, Lenore hurried up to her employer’s room, discarded the bonnet and swapped the shawl for another one.

  Then she slipped along to her own chamber and darted inside. Her nine-year-old spaniel, Hero, had been cooped up inside while she had been out with Lady Kelly, and he was ecstatic to see her return for him at last.

  She scrubbed Hero’s curly black head with her bare fingers for several minutes until he calmed down. “I’m lucky to have made it back alive,” she whispered. “But there are other dangers to navigate now, my friend. You were so right to be wary of him.”

  Hero whined, and then rushed to the closed door to scratch at it. Hero was a very well-trained dog, otherwise she’d never have been able to keep him all these years. She’d have to take him out for a walk in the grounds before she read her letter. Lady Kelly would accept that excuse for any tardiness in returning better than anything else she might say.

  She headed down the servants’ staircase quickly and quietly.

  She felt safer outside, freer. The dog usually did his business quite quickly, and then Lenore would usually make him run about for a while so he was worn out for the evening.

  Hero immediately ran off on his own, leaving Lenore to find a spot to wait for him. She chose a place out of sight of the windows of the house, to read her letter.

  She’d known Lord Carmichael as a child, when she’d lived on his estate with her maternal grandmother. Though Grandmother had died many years ago, Lord Carmichael had insisted she write to him with her directions. He usually responded to her letters, but he never wrote to her first. She ripped open the letter, praying nothing was wrong.

  When she unfolded the thick sheets, she found several pound notes tucked inside. His writing was so terrible that she had to squint until she made out a few words, then the letter finally made sense.

  She raised her hand to her lips to contain her relief. She was holding a generous offer of employment from him.

  He wanted her to come to London to be his new wife’s paid companion. He’d sent her enough funds to make her journey very comfortable, too.

  Lenore collapsed against the wall she was hiding behind. She immediately knew her virtue would be safe in his household.

  She folded the letter and the money quickly, and hid them in her sleeve. After she called her dog to her, Lenore hurried back to her room to begin packing up her few belongings.

  On the way there, she heard the news that Lady Kelly would marry Lord Thorne, and she smiled to herself while everyone else worried about their positions. Lenore would be long gone before that scoundrel Lord Thorne was any the wiser.

  Chapter 3

  Price heard a dog bark and threw a shoe across the room toward the sound. His footwear bounced against the door with less impact than he could be proud of. Unfortunately, the barking only continued unabated, and the fog of sleep lifted bit by bit.
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  Price felt like hell, but that was not unusual for a Tuesday morning.

  He opened one bleary eye and raised his head gingerly to look around the room.

  No dog stood nearby.

  He must have imagined it or dreamed he still had one of his own, and he lowered his head again very gently. His dreams of late were often unsettling reminders of the past, but a dog was a welcome change.

  He squeezed his eyes shut again and rolled onto his side, clutching his arms tightly to his aching head. Too much wine again last night, or not enough to last. It was always one or the other these days. In a few hours, he’d be back at Madam Bradshaw’s to do it all again, though. His friends would probably complain he was drinking again, but he was learning to ignore their arguments that he had to consider the future.

  The barking resumed, louder this time, nearly splitting his skull in half.

  Was the creature right outside his bedchamber door?

  He stretched out a hand, waved it around until it glanced off the side of his second shoe sitting on a nearby chair. Since the barking continued to torture his poor head, he made more of an effort to secure it so he could throw that one, too.

  However, in doing so, he caused himself to fall. The air burst from his lungs at the force of the impact.

  It was only then it occurred to him that he wasn’t in his bedchamber but downstairs in the dining room. He’d been sleeping on top of the table but now lie face down over a hard chair.

  He pushed himself off the chair, falling to the hard bare boards untidily. He scowled at the underside of the dining table and then shrugged. There was no one around to see him in his current state. He had no one to apologize to. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember coming home, or how he’d made it this far into the house, when he tried. It wasn’t the first time Price had thought better of making the trek upstairs to bed, either.

  “Devil take it,” he complained as his head started to throb in earnest.

  A dog barked again.

  Price twisted and got to his hands and knees, and then he started to crawl toward the distant door. “Someone shut that dog up. Do I have to do everything?”

  He didn’t expect an answer. One didn’t engage in a lot of conversation when one lived more or less alone in a large house with few staff. He had driven almost all his servants to find other employment in the past months. He was happy to be spared their pitying glances in the mornings, too, and surly responses when he’d demanded they fetch him more wine.

  Price crawled across the floor, an awkward thing to do when cup-shot and holding a leather shoe in one hand.

  Finally at the door, he made several attempts to unlatch it before succeeding. He threw it open wide but winced at the pain a shaft of sunshine inflicted when it struck his eyes. After a moment, his sight returned, and he dragged himself up to his knees, leaning heavily on the doorframe as he looked out.

  There was a dog in his house.

  A black one.

  He blinked in surprise. “Humphries?” he croaked, and then wet his lips to call again.

  The dog barked at him, but its tail wagged back and forth in a friendly fashion.

  Price called for his butler again, a little louder this time.

  Still nothing, and yet more barking from this stray dog.

  He put his hand to his head and scowled at the animal, noting that the barking and whining it was doing continued unabated. It was going to split his skull open at any moment, and something must be done about it.

  He tried smiling at the animal. “Shh,” he urged.

  It whined, head lowering, but it never took its eyes from Price, and its tail continued to twitch as if waiting for a game of fetch. The animal was a few years too old to be making such a fuss, but it was clearly well cared for. Its curly black coat had been clipped short and gleamed in the sunlight. It must have been locked in by mistake. If someone didn’t let the beast outside soon, Price feared his head would destroy itself.

  Price managed to push up to one knee, and then he pulled himself up the rest of the way until he was standing. He immediately clutched the door as the room spun horribly.

  He glanced at his front door, and the sun shining through the glass pane above. Price’s dining room did not usually face the rising morning light but the afternoon’s fading one. It seemed much later, now that he considered the angle of the sun.

  He squinted at the dog again. Now that he was standing, it seemed a small animal for the fuss it was making. It was getting brave enough to approach him, too. It watched him with keen interest from a few feet away. “Afternoon, dog,” he said.

  It licked its lips.

  Price lowered his hand from his head, hoping the beast would stay quiet. “Would you mind doing what you’re doing someplace else, sir? I’ve the most horrible head right now.”

  The dog, however, misinterpreted his conversation to mean Price would like to hear more of his barking tale and restarted at an even louder volume.

  He scowled at the dog as it really got worked up.

  Afraid he’d never get any peace, and not hearing Humphries anywhere about, he left his support behind and made his way unsteadily to the front door to open it himself.

  However, once Price had finally managed to unlock the bolts on the heavy oak door, the black dog started growling severely and danced backward.

  He looked at it in alarm. “You can only stay if you learn to be quiet.”

  The dog sat on its haunches and whined. But it had stopped barking, and for that, Price was profoundly grateful.

  Head spinning, Price nudged the door shut with his hip and slid down to the dog’s level to sit on his bum in the hall. “Sitting is definitely preferable to standing right now, my friend. Although lying down is better than everything in the world, really, don’t you think?”

  The dog flattened itself on the parquetry floor. Impressed that it seemed to be copying him, Price held out his hand again. “Good dog. Come here for a pat now.”

  It came to him slowly, on its belly, but only close enough to sniff his fingers. Eventually, it got even braver and licked him, too.

  “Aren’t you a curious little thing?” Price said as he rubbed the dog about the ears, and then down its chest a bit. The dog lifted one paw, an expression of doggy bliss crossing its face as Price continued. “I had a dog like you once.”

  He turned the animal toward him and studied its face. “Very like you, actually. Where’s your master this morning?”

  “His mistress is standing right here, my lord, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is the afternoon,” a female voice supplied. “I am truly sorry if he’s disturbed you, Lord Carmichael. He got away from me and has led me a merry chase all over the house. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

  Price looked up slowly and squinted.

  A young woman with dark hair and thick, straight black eyebrows wearing an ugly green muslin gown and matching pelisse hovered nearby. “Is he yours?”

  “Well, of course he’s mine.” She pointed at the animal, and then curtsied quickly to him. “This is the dog you gave me, Lord Carmichael.”

  He looked at her face more closely, and then at the dog. Recognition dawned very slowly. “Piggy? Is that you?”

  She winced. “Lord Carmichael, are we not a little old for name-calling,” she said curtly, and then curtsied again quickly. “A pleasure to see you at last.”

  Price hurried to apologize, and then pushed to stand up, or tried to. He found it took several awkward attempts before he got his feet firmly under him again. Lenore was as short as he remembered. He bowed, albeit a bit unsteadily. “Likewise. Forgive me for not recognizing you immediately. The dog distracted me. He sounded miserable out here, and I could not ignore him.”

  She blinked several times, and a blush crept up her cheeks as she lowered her eyes to the floor. “I apologize for the disturbance.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  She smiled quickly, and then beckoned the dog to her with a qu
ick movement of her hand. “He’s not adjusting to his new surroundings very well, I’m afraid. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

  Price leaned against one wall because he felt weak, and decidedly unwell, now he was standing. “He’s scared. You should stay close to him while he becomes better acquainted with the noises and smells of the city. Eventually, he’ll happily go around with you.”

  “I should not neglect my duties.” Her eyes drifted over him again. “I hope you don’t mind him being here with me.”

  Price glanced at the dog and pulled a matching long face. “Where else could he go but with you? That was the point of my gift, don’t you remember. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “I remember,” she whispered.

  Price then tried very hard to remember why Miss Lenore Griffin could be standing in his home that afternoon. He hadn’t seen her in a very long time, not since she’d gone to be a companion to a neighbor’s mother some distance from his country seat. He’d remember later, no doubt, but for now, he’d pretend he wasn’t an earl and she wasn’t a former servant’s granddaughter. “How are you?”

  “Oh, as well as ever. I was very happy to receive your letter.”

  Price laughed softly, and then looked up quickly. “What letter?”

  She frowned at him. “Your letter. The one that brought me here. Don’t you remember?”

  “Of course I do,” he promised.

  But he didn’t. Price hadn’t seen Lenore Griffin since he’d given her the puppy, Hero, as a parting gift some years ago. He was surprised he even recognized her, given how long ago that had been and how much her features had improved. But he had written to her each year in reply to her letters. Only at Christmas, though. Lenore was alone in the world now, and he’d felt an almost brotherly responsibility to keep in touch.

  A pretty young lady he hardly knew really shouldn’t be standing about in a bachelor’s home without a chaperone right by her side. Actually, neither Lenore nor a chaperone had any business here at all.

  He put one hand to the door, intending to open it up again so she could leave the house with her dog.